The Dark Heart of the City
by Seguchi Touma
Summary: (Chapter Six Up) Yaoi/Lemon - 1x4, 2x3x5 - AU - D/s themes - Welcome to UnderCity, a place where dark angels, demons, werewolves, and vampires walk alongside the remains of humanity.
1. Chapter One

Title: The Dark Heart of the City  
  
Author: Zoisite NightDragon  
  
Part: 1/who has any idea...  
  
Pairings: 1x4, 2x3x5, there's lots more that escape me right now. Zechs, Treize, and everyone else shows up later.  
  
Status: I'll finish it eventually.  
  
Disclaimer/Warnings/etc: Slap every warning you can think of on this. First off though, UnderCity is owned and copyrighted by me and Stonewall Publications, so please don't take it, okay? Any chars that aren't owned by Mobile Suit Gundam Wing and their respective companies are mine as well, such as the Enforcers and so on. Erm... yarg. I know I'm forgetting some, so I will say this. This piece was originally meant to be the opener of a second never in the Dark Heart series, but it really didn't fit for the chars it was written for, but it worked pretty good for an alternate universe GW story. It does have a good deal of horror, bloodshed, angst, etc.. all the bad stuff. You all will learn that I specialize in that. For background info, the wars never happened. Treize screwed up, and the entire Earth was scorched, cutting them off from everything. None of the GW boys came from colonies or wherever. They were born within UnderCity or came by other means. They were never pilots, the Gundams weren't made in time or at all (that comes up later, so shhhh) Yes, I did intentionally make this long so that if this isn't anyone's cup of tea they don't have to see anything they don't want to.  
  
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It was quiet for once on the streets of UnderCity. A lithe male crouched in the alleyway, the scent of rotting garbage and the blood that continuously flowed in the gutters of this Hell lingering in his nose. Above him and the husk of the city, no stars shined... no moon lit the sky. What brand of demons were they to be trapped like this forever? What crime had they committed? These were the thoughts of Quatre, as he remained still, muscles burning with the strain of keeping his position.  
  
A patrol of Enforcers moved by, their guttural voices laughing about some poor soul they had caught earlier after the curfew. Four men in all, each of them were clothed in the midnight blue of the regime, gold trim adorning the front of their tunics, the silver mark of Treize perched on the collar. Two of them held back slobbering creatures that resembled a dog and warthog combined. As massive as a rottweiler, tusks pushed out from their blackened lips, viciously sharp teeth lining the rest of their maws. Piggish crimson eyes glared out, searching for any movement in the darkness as their wet snouts wriggled to capture scents. Fur spotted their bodies at odd intervals, the rest of it a raw looking flesh. Unfortunately, it was also tough as steel as the others had found out. Daggers or other blades did little to nothing to stop them once they were set on anyone the Enforcers termed a 'deviant'.  
  
A frightened shriek tore from his rosen lips as a rough hand captured his shirt collar, lifting him off of his feet. Another Enforcer. Quatre berated himself for his stupidity. They always went in patrols of five... why hadn't he looked around for the last one? Strong arms closed about his willowy frame as hot breath tainted with rancid blood and gunpowder blew past his ear, "Quiet runt, and you might get out of this alive."  
  
All motion halted, hot tears scalding his eyes. Captured as easily as a babe. Leathery wings folded about him, holding him as securely as the arm about his waist did. As the membrane like wing closed over his head, the boy continued to tremble like a wet kitten, unseen at least against in the Enforcer's embrace. There were few dark angels in the group, and all of them were renowned for cruelty. Fallen from the Heavens as they were here below the Earth, they had a right to be bitter. One Hell had been traded off for another with Treize acting out the part of the new Lucifer.   
  
The shouting and pounding steps of the other lawmen stilled his whimpering cries. Within the encasement of canvas wing, he couldn't escape, and the thought of slashing through it to gain freedom was a thought that even the insane wouldn't consider. Dark angels were bad enough when simply curious. Infuriate one by damaging their precious wings, and the morning Sweepers would be picking up bits of your flesh with the cleanings. Trapped here within the musky, gamy scent of the body against him and the wing, Quatre uttered a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening.  
  
"What in Treize's name was that?" came from his side, probably the leader of the patrol.  
  
"A street rat." The dark angel replied in an ominous rumbling voice, the shriek of fingernails on a chalkboard running under the tones. It filled the entirety of the chest that Quatre was crushed against on the one side, a powerful network of muscles running under the boy's cheek and body.   
  
"Well... where is he?" Indignant sounding, a commander upset with being given such bare facts by one he considered a subordinate.   
  
Laughter filled the stifling air, the boy's hands trying to rise to shut out the hideous tones rolling against his ears. If he listened long enough, he'd go insane. Uttering a soft whimper of terror, he was rewarded by the wing tightening about him like a tentacle, seeking to crush the life out of him if he didn't keep his silence as told. Finishing lashing his derision down upon the human that sought to command him, the dark angel's voice wafted out from his lips once more, calm and deadly in its tones, "I'm taking him home for dinner. He's stringy, but I'm willing to bet his blood will be as sweet as his soul will be. That is, unless you'd rather I take -you- home, Captain Harbringer?"  
  
A noise came from beyond the leathery wing keeping Quatre from the Enforcers, a snorting cough. With a few last muttered phrases, too low for the boy to make out, the rest of the patrol broke off and went on their way. At least he knew his fate now. Hopefully, his death would be quick without the torture that he had heard accompanied one of the dark ones tearing the soul from a victim.  
  
The angel's wing released him slowly, an arm still laced about his slender waist to keep him off of his feet and from escape. The boy lifted his aquamarine eyes up to meet the Artic cold ones of the fallen celestial. Cringing back from the lucid madness there, another choked sob broke from his throat. Golden lashes fell to his pale cheeks, trying to shut his eyes against that sight forever, never again wanting to see the vacancy behind that gaze.   
  
Heero lifted a hand to touch the cherubic face of the captured boy. Moonlight pale fingers caressed the velvety skin of his captive, relishing in the softness and even more in the involuntary whimper that was forced out from between the lush expanse of the cupid bow lips. Baby fine curls of the same golden silver kissed shade as his eyelashes adorned the boy's head, flowing about his delicate features like a halo. Heero found his breath taken from him for a moment at the exquisite frailness of the body in his arms, even the small shivers of fear racing up and down the boy brought a thrill of dark delight to him. So many possibilities, so many debauchery delights that he hardly knew where to begin.  
  
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Fifty years ago, before the mortal pair had even been born, nuclear war had scorched the world. The air turned to poison; the sky turned to ash. The earth itself went through an upheaval. The San Andreas Fault ruptured, spilling part of America into the ocean. What had once been populace cities were reduced to half standing ruins or rubble. People died by the millions from the initial attacks as well as the waves of disease that followed. It was humanity's last stand.  
  
In this time, the ground beneath a vast city opened up, plummeting the entire thing down into the earth. Just what the name of this city had been was lost long ago, those having the knowledge dying or choosing to simply rename it to 'UnderCity'. Perhaps then it had seemed wisest to break with the past, forget the world that was in its death throes above them. Hindsight was a hell of a thing in the present.   
  
It had been whispered among humanity from the beginnings that there were supernatural beings walking among them. With the nuclear war wiping out everything above, those creatures fled into the earth as well to escape what even they could not survive. Those that found the fallen city declared it their home. The angels had been the first. Even now, they were the most feared. Vampires came shortly after, most of their numbers dead from the lack of blood to live upon. More were slaughtered when they had been discovered to be in UnderCity by all the races that had come there for refuge. The last thing that anyone had wanted was the tatters of the human race becoming the undead and everyone starving to death. In time, UnderCity's then leader, a man named Heron Racline, had reached an agreement with them that preserved the last few remaining. To this day, only twenty or so survived. For them to turn any mortal was their death.   
  
Last came the werecreatures, even they discovering finally that the shattered Earth could not be saved. They still skulked on the outskirts of UnderCity, living more in the miles and miles of sewer that surrounded the structures instead of the city itself as all the others did. That suited those in charge now just fine. The werecreatures were infamous for slaughtering anything trying to come into those tunnels they called their own as well as anything leaving. What exactly they did in the labyrinth of tunnels that curled about UnderCity like a snake was unknown. No one had ever ventured in there and made it out alive… or at least sane. Stumbling along in fetid darkness with the worst things imaginable clinging to a person tended to break reason in anyone. Those that made it back never spoke of their adventure, if they even spoke at all.  
  
UnderCity in itself was a complex society, if one considered an economy based on sex, drugs, and violence a society. Few of its inhabitants had ever seen the light of the sun or knew such a thing ever existed... or they had purposely forgotten. Most had been born here or kidnapped from other places; tongues removed to prevent ever speaking of things that lay above them. Children ran the streets during the night and what passed as the day in this place. All the lights stayed lit regardless, there being no sun, no moon, and no real sky to speak of. It was something in the human condition that told them when it was time to sleep and to rise.   
  
Curfew, oddly enough, began at what was the start of the day for those who lived above the ground. Enforcer patrols roamed the streets, collecting up anyone out at that time to be taken to the slave pens. Auctions ran all night, living beings on sale like cattle for anyone with the money to buy them. Their own families bought some, precious coin spent to reclaim a loved one caught out after the curfew or for some other offense committed against Treize and the Enforcers. The rest were sold to the various whorehouses, the tastes of those running and frequenting such establishments always needing new morsels to satisfy them. Private individuals bought a few, the rich existing even in the darkness of UnderCity. Some had their own harems, while others needed only a few males or females to play with. The proceeds of such auctions went to support the government... mainly to build up Treize's forces or pay off the existing ones.  
  
Treize ruled UnderCity with an iron fist, simply crushing those that would oppose him such as the Rebellion and rewarding greatly those that stood with him. His greatest supporters, ones that would give all they had for him, owned the few mansions lying on the outskirts of the filth that made up the bulk of UnderCity. The celestials' homes lay in that area, along with the others of his kind that served Treize. Better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven, and whatever god these mortals believed in help them if they thought that the dark angels were ruled by anyone... even Treize.  
  
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The soft hiss of the air conditioning was all that filled the austere rooms that Heero stepped into. Underfoot was black marble, shot through with the finest threads of gold. The same black marble made up the walls and ceilings, giving all his rooms a cold feel that was relieved only by the emerald and gold runners of carpeting such as what was underfoot as he strode up the hallway. The frail form within his arms was limp, either unconscious or sleeping. He was willing to bet it was the former given that most mortals didn't react well to his brand of flight.   
  
A touch to a panel set in the wall released the soft strains of Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata' performed on a sole piano through his home, giving calmness to the dark celestial as he roamed through the gloomy halls. Pausing before an ebony door, he nudged it gently open. Within was a large washroom, roughly the size of most studio apartments. The sunken garden tub overtook nearly half of the room, the black and gold marble expanse large enough for nearly ten people to relax comfortably within its depths. Nozzles hung above it, providing a shower or a gentle mist with a turn of the dial. Jets were set in the sides of the tub, excellent when used on tightened muscles. The floor was the cold stone of the rest of the mansion; some softness provided by the freshly spilled blood coloured towels and matching gauzy curtains that lined the tub. Two paintings hung on the wall, keeping with the scarlet theme, depicting the tortures of Hell as only Dante could have seen them. Limbs and flesh were ripped from screaming mortals, blood flowing into lakes below the damned. It suit Heero's personality and gave him a faint sense of satisfaction to see his home portrayed so graphically.  
  
Starting warm waters running into the sunken tub, the dark angel carefully laid the unconscious boy upon a pile of fluffy towels. An innocent upon an altar of blood. It pleased his aesthetic side. Removing his own Enforcer's blackened uniform, the angel's gaze rose to his own reflection in the mirror. Dark brown hair fell down to his face in spikes that went in all directions, stroking his back softly. His skin was pale but flawless, much like the rest of the inhabitants of UnderCity, the lack of marring from his celestial heritage. Eyes of a deep Prussian blue studied him back. With a flexing of his shoulders, bat like wings rose from behind him, tipped with crimson claws at their apex. Elegantly slender hands rose, each crowned with a crystalline nail that glinted in the light. Careful slicking his hair back of his hair and out of reach should his captive resist was simple intelligence. The boy had been docile enough when he'd scooped him up in that alleyway, but taking a chance at this point was foolishness.   
  
Satisfied, he sniffed the water, the scent of jasmine and honey reaching up to him with sensual caresses across his senses. The boy was beautiful beyond description but his aroma and state of cleanliness was less than pleasing. A bath was order to say the least. Turning about to lift his prisoner into the fragrant water, the dark angel could only blink. The pile of towels was empty save a few spots of dirt. Quatre had vanished on him.  
  
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Quatre's blood pounded in his ears as he ran over the soft emerald carpeting. He had to get away... had to. That thing was going to eat him, something he'd made all too clear to the other Enforcers. Sliding around a cornre, the boy almost lost his footing, regaining it quickly as he nearly tumbled down an ebony staircase. Was everything in this horror house black? With his own breath rasping through his throat, the boy's light blue eyes lashed over the shadows pressing about on all sides, expecting the dark angel to come leaping out at any time. If he was lucky, he might get out of this alive... if he could remember where the damnable door was.  
  
Flicking back sweat stained locks of hair from his face, the boy ran on, searching for any sort of exit, escape. Eager hands seized on a gilt doorknob, jerking the massive door open. Judging from the size of the barrier, it had to be the way out. Before his eyes, the carved devils that were dancing in delight seemed to wink lecherously. Below them were chained angels, their wings clipped, perfect lips frozen open in wails of torment. A few of the imps skipped about their prisoners, sodomizing some and simply torturing others with sharp instruments. Squeezing his lids shut in horror, Quatre jerked the door open and fled through it into darkness.  
  
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Heero stalked like a hunting panther through his rooms, the soft whisper of his leather clad legs the only sound. Lips peeled back from his daggerish teeth, the angel's fingers clenching and unclenching in fury. The only stop he made was at his bedroom, jerking open the low nightstand beside the bed with a snap of his wrist. From within, he drew a delicately made pair of handcuffs and a collar. Both bore a simple 'K' on them, the only sign of ownership. Before this night was out, he was going to own that boy inside and out. How dare he flee from him as if he were a free person!  
  
Body rippling like a caged animal within the confines of silken flesh, leathery wings snapped against his sides. Gripping the collar, small amounts of his energy fled into the metal. When he locked it around the boy's throat, it was never coming off. Lifting his chin, cold eyes roved over the hall, sniffing deeply to catch the scent of his prey. Heero lowered to a crouch, one hand pressed against the emerald runner of carpet covering the stone floor. Still sniffing, he moved forward on his hands and feet like a cat. Nails dug deeply into the floor, grinding against the marble with a rasp. A ribbon like black tongue flicked out from between his lips, tasting the air, pulling the boy's scent of fear from it. A spiraling shriek came from down the hall, Heero's pointed ears flicking towards the sound. Mind numbing terror laced the boy's cries. Evidentially he'd found the gallery. A smile of vicious delight crossed his lips as he rose back to his feet and began strolling leisurely down to the door covered with capering devils and screaming angels... only wanting the angel within.  
  
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Back pressed against the wall, all Quatre could do was scream. The floor beneath him was unlike the rest of the house; these ones made of cement with a long gutter just before the door... a gutter that was currently choked with blood and gore that he'd rather not identify. On the other side of the rut was a nightmare of an insane man. Delicately formed bodies lay on tables, within cruel cages, or simply chained to the wall or ceiling. Blood was spread across the floor like red paint on a cheap movie set, so much of it that it seemed unreal. Before him hung the tortured form of a male his age, ripped open from throat to groin. Pasted on the young features was an expression of pain that no man or woman should have experienced before death took them. To Quatre's mounting terror, the man's lips parted to inhale. He was still alive.  
  
Letting loose another volley of screams, he turned, only wanting out of this room that stank of rancid copper and flesh. As his small form impacted with the six foot one of Heero, he barely realized the dark angel had lifted him up or that something had been snapped about his throat. Shrieking still, ineffective fists pummeled about the other's shoulders and face, the boy too lost in his fear to yet see that he was out of the chamber and being carried upstairs once more. Finally collapsing in tears against the angel's shoulder, a soft yet insidious whisper reached him.   
  
"Do as I say, and you will never have to end up like them."  
  
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A moue of displeasure crossed Heero's painfully beautiful face as he sat the boy back on his feet before the bathtub, the scent of jasmine giving the room a nighttime garden feel. Touching a fingertip to the boy's nose, he carefully studied the aqua shaded eyes, searching for a hint of reaction. After he'd pulled him out of the gallery, there had been nothing except for shakes and tears. Both had stopped now, leaving his captive with a shocked and dulled expression. Lifting his massive shoulders in a shrug, Heero told himself that it didn't matter. He would come back to himself soon enough. If not, his blood and soul would provide him with enough sustenance for the night.  
  
Sliding the ragged shirt from Quatre's pale shoulders, the angel's breath raced over his shoulder. A shiver passed over the smooth flesh, head tilting back slightly. Lowering his head enough to hide his smile, Heero lifted a finger to his mouth, wetting the tip and then running it over the boy's nipple. Another warm breath passed over the moistened skin. He was rewarded with another shiver and a soft moan. Crouching before Quatre, the dark angel's hand rose to hold the boy's chin firmly within the cage of his fingers, sniffing his throat and shoulder deeply. The low moan heightened in volume, the captive swaying on his feet as if willing to fall into his arms. The celestial's lips split in a vicious grin. Success.  
Muscle laced arms wound about the boy as Heero lifted him. A gentle boost and they were over the lip of the tub, settling within the depths of the warm water. Slender arms were clasped about his neck, reminding him of the slight weight he bore in his arms, carrying the boy against him as he settled on one of the impressions built into the side of the tub as in the shape of lounging chairs.   
  
Shifting Quatre off of his lap, Heero scooped up some of the scented waters to dump over the blonde crowned head, watching the path of the silvery waters as they wound through the dirtied locks. A hint of disgust crossed his lush lips at the filth built up as well as the parasites that crawled about within them. Those were going to have to go first. The mere sight of the small bugs crawling about on the boy's scalp was enough to make him faintly ill, reminded of the fleas infesting a rat's body.  
  
Snaring up a bottle of medicated shampoo within a clawed hand, the strongly scented cream was dumped next upon the mass of waves, rubbed vigorously. Turning his attentions back to the blank face, he asked in a quiet voice, not wanting to further upset his new toy, "What is your name?"  
  
A blank look met his question before the cupid bow lips parted in a reply, "Quatre..."  
  
Heero nodded slowly, that enough of an answer for him. Watching him still, he noted with some pleasure as Quatre touched the collar about his throat. There were no tears, merely an acceptance there. At least this hadn't been another foolish mistake that would lead with him having to drag a sobbing mass down to the punishment room to be left and forgotten within one of the cages or bonds there. Allowing a smile to curve his lips, he murmured quietly, "Close your eyes."  
  
Silvery gold lashes met pale cheeks as the boy complied without question. The smile upon the dark angel's lips grew larger. Drizzling water across the cleansed mass of hair, the now dead lice streamed down with the dirt-choked lather to be whisked away by the tub's strainer and jets. A washcloth gently rubbed across his skin, removing the stench of the streets from him easily to be replaced with the water's fragrance. Now... if he could just act as good as he looked. 


	2. Chapter Two

Fragrant trickles of night jasmine scented waters wound down about the pale skin of Quatre as a washcloth roamed about the rest of him, scrubbing away what seemed to be a lifetime accumulation of dirt. Patient strokes brought the layers of dirt off of him, letting them fall away to the tub's waters to be swept away. A pause finally came as Heero sat it aside, turning his new toy around to study him. Long fingers curled about Quatre's chin, nails that seemed to be made of jaggedly broken glass sliding thoughtfully along his cheek.  
  
Eyes the blue shade of skies possessed by storms lowered to gaze into his own, studying as if seeking something to rip out from him. It was once said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. If that was true, then Quatre was convinced that this dark angel had no soul. There was nothing within those cold eyes. No spark lit his irises or pupils. They could have been a pair of mirrors he was gazing into for all that was there, his own reflection staring back at him looking small and frightened. The chuckle that crept out of the dark angel's throat brought a chill across his nude backside, the sound that of fragile glass shattered carelessly on a cruelly hard floor. Tears tried to rise in his aqua eyes, prickles of salt water that he tried to conquer, not wanting to show weakness before the other even as he felt the trails of liquid warmth move down his cheeks.  
  
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Heero tilted his head in birdlike fascination as he watched his pet. Beautiful yes, enough to make him almost want to weep, but beauty often accompanied a weak will and empty headedness. A glitter of candlelight across a tear tracing its way down the boy's face captured his attention, watching it sparkle and move as he would a rare jewel. The tip of his blackened, ribbon like tongue flicked out, rasping its way across the boy's cheek to gather up the wetness there and bring it back to be savoured. His other hand rose up as well to fully encase Quatre's face within a cage of his fingers, the razor sharp edges of his fingernails sliding across the delicate skin, flesh that he could easily rend to bloody pieces with a downward stroke. A hunger burned within him, wondering if Quatre's blood was as sweet as it smelled and how his soul would taste as it was rolled across his tongue like an exotic chocolate. A purr accompanied that thought as he continued to study the soft eyes of the boy before him.  
  
The decision of how to begin training was an interesting one for a creature such as himself. He was the master and could easily take what he wanted, however, that would mean that he would have to use force every night from then on. There were times when he did enjoy the conquest, forcing someone into submission. More often as of late, he wanted someone to willingly curl to his side. Lacking the mind controlling ability of Treize and his right-hand-man, Zechs that did complicate things. So how to proceed now? How did he make a street rat picked up on a whim into a courtesan that would be compliant and warm in bed yet retain a mind of his own? A simpering fool would bore him quickly, something that fueled his worry on the boy being too pretty. How much damage did the streets of UnderCity with their violence already do to Quatre? How many others had forced their wills upon him or willingly had their demands met?  
  
One of the fingertips wound itself about a lock of the silvery gold hair crowning the boy's head, turning it through it gently. Patience would have to be the watchword for this. If he took his time... perhaps. Better to wait and gain what he wanted than force it to happen and end up with another broken toy to lock away and forget. Seduction would be best. That alone spread Heero's lips in a rictus grin of delight, his whip like tongue flowing out once more to wash over them.  
  
Arms that were slender yet filled with a steel-like hardness beneath them wrapped under Quatre's knees, the other running behind his back. A snapping sound like that of a leather whip cracking boomed in the washroom as Heero rose, his wings unfurling to throw the water off of them. Stepping out carefully, he slowly lowered his captive's feet to the warmth of the blood-shaded towels, another of their fuzzy softness wrapped about him gently. Yet another was taken up to dry his hair with quick movements, rubbing them free of the water. A ruby set comb was drawn through the hair, Quatre himself pulled into Heero's bare lap for a seat. Now was when it began.  
  
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Quatre himself was still in a daze, sure that this was all a nightmare and that he would wake up in the dumpster in which he usually slept with Trowa and Duo, two other teens that he often ran with. It was Hell's own bad luck that they hadn't been together tonight. Duo had dragged Trowa off before Quatre was fully awake to one of the whorehouses to get lucky. There was some girl there named Hilde that he had a thing for. Trowa hadn't wanted to go for the most part, but he was interested in seeing if they could hit the place later for some food, perhaps some coin as well. Anything to survive in the place without having to sell their bodies for food.  
  
The feel of a comb going through his hair brought his attention back to the here and now. His head twisted, trying to discover just what was being taken across his locks, never having had his hair combed before beyond what he could do with his fingers after being dunked in the public fountain when Trowa decided that he and Duo smelled too bad to be stood. Small fingers wrapped about the comb as he brought it down to his level, the sharp curiosity of a cat looking over the instrument before releasing it with a blush up at Heero for stopping him.   
  
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Surprised had been a way to describe Heero's reaction to his wrist being seized by the boy. The hand supporting Quatre's back had sprung open like a switchblade, the sharpened nails readying to plunge into Quatre's side and rip out his spleen if he tried something. The suspicion that the boy was really a telepath of something of the like had been in his mind before and burst to full, ugly life now. If that was so, it would be a shame to lose him, but he was taking no chances. Watching the face before him as Quatre examined the comb with a child's puzzlement, he burst into laughter, a full rich sound unlike the earlier ones that hurt the ears and mind. This was a sound that had perhaps rang in heaven long ago before he was cast down with his brothers. It was something new even to him after so long.  
  
"It is a comb, little one. It's used to get the tangles out of your hair and keep it straight," he murmured, shifting Quatre on his lap to place the boy's back to his chest. He offered the comb up to the cherubic male's hands, letting him have a try with it as if it were a new toy. With the smaller fingers threading through his own, Heero felt his groin tighten. Quatre's touch was like that of a feather, teasing innocently even as they somehow seemed wanton. Watching the boy comb his hair for the first time, his chin lowered to rest upon the bare shoulder before him, arms curling about the slender waist.   
  
The jagged fingernails rose slowly, drawing across Quatre's stomache as a low purr of a giant cat began in Heero's throat. Lips that were surprisingly soft began to brush against the slender throat of the Arabian, kisses as light as the brush of a butterfly's wing placed in a line. Flicking his eyes up to the mirror he saw that surprise was in the boy's light eyes, his motion with the comb stopping. Now it became critical to turn the new slave to his side with gentleness, avoiding force or putting fear into him.  
  
The forked tip of his tongue flicked out like a snake's, teasing around Quatre's ear. The body within the dark angel's arms trembled. A hot rush of air ran along behind the wet trail, bringing a soft moan and an increase in the quivering. The nails of his fingers traced along the boy's stomache still, turning the backs of his fingers to touch the delicate skin to keep from harming him. *Gentle, gentle* he kept repeating in his mind like a mantra, keeping himself from merely throwing the boy to the floor and taking what he wanted.   
  
Quatre moaned softly, turning his head to the side and exposing more of his throat to Heero, the boy's arms lowering to his lap with the comb clutched tightly within his fingers. The dark angel's wings curled inwards, the leathery lengths joining in like another set of hands as they stroked against the boy's legs, caressing the inside of his calves and ankles. To Heero's surprise, Quatre's arms lifted up to wrap about his neck, the slender body writhing against him in an undulation, the snake brought to the celestial. A brief flicker of distaste wound through his mind, sensing some experience here that he'd rather not know the source of. Like all of his kind, he was insanely jealous of what he considered to be his own. Someone else had already educated this one in the dances done between the winding sheets.  
  
The wingtips tracing their archaic paths along Quatre's ankles tightened, urging the boy's legs to spread slowly. Tenseness spread up the boy's body, his scent changing quickly from one of passive enjoyment to mounting fear. It was enough to stop Heero cold as if he had been slapped. Forcing the wings to slowly release, he was thrown into puzzlement; rather sure that he new toy had already had experience in this area. A tilt of his head brought the tender tortures of his tongue back into play, slowly urging Quatre to turn in his lap to face him. Within those too wide gemmed eyes, he was vaguely shocked to see fear and unease, the two things he had wanted to put aside more than anything. The inner sense of upset with himself unnerved him more as he watched the apprehension on the face of the being in his lap. Raising his purring more, his advances slowed down, nuzzling his cheek along the boy's, "Don't be afraid, little one. I won't force you into it."  
  
A bitter tone answered him, something too hardened and adult like to come from the tender lips of the cherubic figure seated before him. "Everyone else done..."  
  
That same rush of acidic anger lashed through Heero's veins as he took that in, his head resting to keep his lips against the tender throat before him. "I won't. It doesn't have to hurt or be something you fear. I swear to you that I will not before you're ready, not until you ask me to will I consider it."  
  
The rest of the warm nest of his wings slid about Quatre, holding him within their pulsing warmth, giving the sensation of being encased in heated leather. Heero's head lowered slightly, that lengthened tongue flickering out like a whip to stroke across the darkened nipple, teasing its forked edge against the centre. Quatre's breath caught, the arms still about the dark angel's neck tightening. Lips soon followed, caressing the very outer edge as he panted his breath upon the newly wettened skin. Teeth were held back and in check, his tongue sweeping across the hardening nub.  
  
The boy's fingers wound into his hair, pulling the Heero's lips firmer against his chest, breath rasping in and out of his lungs. Never before had it felt like this, not even knowing something that felt like this could go along with the act that usually left him feeling pained and dirty, done in back alleys to get the three of them enough food to make it through the night. As the dark angel's lips moved to his other nipple, he felt a foreign stirring between his legs, wanting to press harder against the creature holding him to relieve that pressure. "Heero..." he whispered softly. 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: The Dark Heart of the City - 3/?  
  
Author: Zoisite NightDragon  
  
Part: 3/who has any idea...  
  
Pairings: 1x4, 2x3x5, there's lots more that escape me right now. Zechs, Treize, and everyone else shows up later.  
  
Status: I'll finish it eventually.  
  
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The Dark Heart of the City - Part Three  
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The whisper of his name was all that Heero needed to hear, enough to make him want to stop this game of being kind to be himself. It was the longterm vision of things that made him remain as he was. Gathering the boy into his arms, he kept him close, warm breaths of expelled air racing across the blonde's still damp throat. Teeth sharp enough to cut through flesh nibbled lightly, taking the delicate skin between them and torturing with the tip of his tongue. Heero's steps carried them back into the bedroom, his wings curling about the two of them protectively, an action he often took to keep the delicate membranes from being damaged accidentally. They served another purpose now, stroking Quatre's skin to cause the fire that he had begun in the boy smoldering instead of going out with a change in location.  
  
Heero spilled the boy onto the black silk sheets of his bed, studying the picture made of the delicate seeming male against the ebony backdrop. The light calls to the darkness, and the darkness to the light. Stretching his own darkly nude body out next to the pale one beside him, his fingertips continuing to stroke the contours of the other's body as if he were a blind man learning by touch alone. Lips soon joined the play, touching along the slender part of the other's throat, nuzzling against his shoulder. The whisper of his wings being slowly unbound joined the strains of Beethoven, the warm sheaths creeping beneath the blonde to cradle him once more.  
  
Beneath the hands roaming over him, the blonde haired boy continued to shiver delicately, caught between the creeping fear he always experienced when someone laid their hands on him and the slow building of desire that Heero was tending to within him. To look at him, Heero was frightening on a scale that only an otherworldly creature could be, something that the human mind had trouble accepting, much less receiving caresses from. How could nails that looked sharp enough to slice through steel be so tender against his skin? How could teeth that resembled a wolf's nip so delicately at him without breaking his flesh and spilling his blood? Twisting as the wings curled about him once more, his resistance was being worn down, betrayed by his own body that was relaxing beneath the dark angel's minstrations.  
  
Straddling the body beneath his, Heero's gaze rose to study Quatre's eyes once more, on guard for the fear that might have been trying to once more consume the boy. Seeing it dying down, his head lowered, covering the malicious grin that crept over his own lips. Humans were such frail and weak creatures at times. Almost amusing how if you pet them like a kitten that they responded. Kitten. Koneko. Perhaps that's what he'd name him later. Quatre-koneko. Suiting enough. For now, his mind returned to conquoring with tenderness his new toy.  
  
The ribbon of Heero's snakelike tongue traced a path from Quatre's neck down towards his chest. The boy's skin tasted like cinnamon and jasmine, the latter coming from the bath. The spiced one seemed to be something of his own that he possessed, a flavour that the dark angel was delighted in. It brought to mind desert harems for him, the kinds that had roamed the world long before the disaster of Treize's folly had turned it into an unlivable wasteland. Curling the forked tip about one nipple, Quatre's kittenish whimpers swept over his senses, intoxicating and warming all parts of him, especially those below his waist. How long had it been since he felt real desire versus the animalistic need to mate? That in itself was a pleasant surprise. Pressing his lips about the tender morsel, he coaxed the small mound to hardness, spearing the tip repeatedly with his tongue, teasing and making a game out of how many cries he could pull from the blonde with each curling stroke. The responsiveness alone was gratifying.  
  
As he released them from the embrace of his mouth, Heero's fingertips took over, rolling them both gently between his digits before merely rubbing the top of one finger across. His lips continued their downwards path, stealing another peek at his pet's face. Quatre's breathing had become heavily, his eyes glazing over with passion that tinted his pale cheeks with a blush of rose as well. It was a picture that Heero would remember for a long time to come. Closing his eyes against the image, he slid further down, letting the forked tip of his tongue play about the boy's navel, teasing the soft skin. A low moan escaped the cherub's lips, his hands rising to press against Heero's shoulders, wanting an end to the torture and to be taken. The hands that had been teasing his nipples pulled away with a last stroke, wrapping about the boy's slender wrists with an iron grip to force them back to the bed. Raising his head up, Heero's cobalt eyes bore the same dark delight that his face did. "Now, now, Quatre-koneko... Good things come to those who wait, and I did promise you that I would do nothing of that sort until you asked me for it. Are you ready to ask me already?"  
  
Quatre nodded, a trickle of sweat already tracing from his platinum gold locks down his temple. "Please, Heero... I need you."  
  
The dark angel's lips twisted as he chuckled, a low and ominous sound. "I think not. You see, Quatre-koneko," he paused long enough to lash his tongue across the boy's thigh, tracing a slow line up towards his groin. "You've only know the rough fumblings of johns in backalleys looking for a quick lay if I'm correct. I'm going to show you the true joys of pleasure tonight and everynight. There will be no hurting and no rushing me, little one."  
  
Hands wrapped about Quatre's tightened, forcing his arms back down to the bed as effortlessly as if he had been holding a pup under them. Even with their strength, they were still loose, avoiding any bruising. It was restraint, not hurt. Quatre lifted his entire body back to Heero's lips, whining softly. The dark one's lips continued to hold their smile, the rest of his thoughts going unsaid. If he worked things right tonight, Quatre would never try to escape him. He would want to stay for all the Heero could give him, not to mention it having to be better than living in whatever trash heap he had been before.   
  
Moving back to his tender tortures, Heero's lips descended to begin across the blonde's thighs, nudges of his head parting the legs slowly. Once they were laid over his shoulders, his tongue came back into play, tracing the lines of the other boy's flesh, tasting the flavours that were uniquely Quatre's own even as the boy's panted rasps for breath played in his ears. Raising himself up slightly, his lips stopped a bare inch from the head of the other boy's phallus, releasing a breath of heated air down across the strained skin. A loud cry of need broke from his captive, the body beneath his trembling and straining upwards once more to seek the sanctuary of his mouth. It was a request he filled this time.  
  
The heated sheath of Heero's mouth sank slowly on the length of Quatre's desire, his tongue curling about the hardness in a flickering path, winding and squeezing before pulling back slowly. Another glance towards his captive's face showed him the tears leaking from the cornre's of Quatre's eyes, the persperation making the boy's skin glint in the low light. Drawing the boy's heat back into his throat, his lips settled at the base, letting the tightness of his throat undulate about it, feeling the small twitches and jerks filling his mouth. Drawing upwards with exquisite slowly, he relished the tastes that he collected, lashing his tongue down across the taut skin once more as his lips left the tip, spearing the small slit at the apex. Rewarded with a few weeping droplet of preseminal fluid, he devoured them greedily, firing his hunger for more.  
  
The hands that had held Quatre's own against the bed withdrew, freeing them. As Heero engulfed him once more, he felt the small fingers wind themselves into his hair, the boy's arms trembling. He wouldn't last long. Suckling greedily, his own palms slid beneath Quatre's bottom, balancing Quatre's hips within his grip. One fingertip began probing at the delicate bud of his anus, testing it and running along the rim gently. The sliding of that same hand off of the bed to gather up the bottle of scented jasmine oil was covertly done. Pausing in his aggresive licking of Quatre's length, he began to slowly rub the heated fluid across the boy's thighs and bottom, spilling as much as he could against his own hand, keeping that from sight to avoid alarm in his new pet.  
  
Quatre's head tossed from side to side, a low keening moan being pulled from him. Those noises enticed Heero further, wondering what the other would sound like at the moment of climax. Dropping the bottle to the floor, his head swept back down, greedily suckling the boy's hardness back within his mouth. With the oil covering his fingers, he began to slide one against the tightened ring of muscle. Whipping his tongue against the heat between his lips, he raised and lowered his head against it, listening to the spiraling cries coming from Quatre. "Kami-sama... Heero... onegai..."  
  
A full shudder crept over the body beneath his even as his fingertip slid within the velvety sheath, pressing into the warmth and seeking that one vital spot. As he found it, Quatre sat bolt upright, the hands that had been feebling grasping his hair moments ago turning hard and forcing him down. The length in his mouth spasmed as the boy rocked against his lips, pressing hard against them. A jet of fluid filled his mouth, a warm flavour that brought a purr from the dark angel as he drank it down, teasing for more. A fit of shudders greeted him as his finger caressed that same area within the other boy, Quatre's climax surging over him and into Heero's mouth. Fingers wound tight in his hair as another release of semen filled his mouth, a screaming of his name shattering the air. Pulling Quatre's hips tighter against his lips, he ignored the cries, pulling all that he could from the boy. Another finger slid into that tender passage, soon to be joined by a third.  
  
Quatre fell back on the bed, his sweating body trembling as his eyes lay heavily lidded, watching the erotic scene of the celestial creature still running his lips along his penis. What else did he have in store? 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: The Dark Heart of the City - 4/?  
  
Author: Zoisite NightDragon  
  
Part: 4/who has any idea...  
  
Pairings: 1x4, 2x3x5, there's lots more that escape me right now. Zechs, Treize, and everyone else shows up later.  
  
Status: I'll finish it eventually.  
  
----------------------------  
  
"How could you have let him just... wander off?" Duo nearly shrieked at the top of his lung, glaring at the still silent Trowa. Leave it to someone like Trowa to drop a bomb like Quatre had vanished and then lapse into silence.  
  
"I told you, Duo. We couldn't take him to the Rebellion meetings. When I got back and you were still... debriefing Hilde, he was gone. Moochie is the one who told me about one of the dark angels grabbing him," Trowa replied in his infuriatingly calm manner as he rose from the seat he had taken on the dumpster lid.  
  
Duo fumed in silent anger, violet snaps within his eyes showing his fury at the thought of any of Treize's scum laying a hand on what he termed 'the perfection of Quatre'. A kid like that wasn't the sort that thrived in the violence of UnderCity, perhaps that being why he appealed to both the streethardened Trowa Barton and Duo Maxwell. It was like finding a beautiful rose growing in a compost heap. "Well what are we gonna do? We can't just... just sit here!"  
  
Gathering up a few blades, Trowa nodded in his same silence. He had no intentions of sitting around and doing nothing. Fate did not bring people back. Action did. Gathering his ragged longcoat about him, he deposited the dark knives about his form in easily reached places. "Moochie didn't tell me which of those monsters it was other than that he was dark haired. Being a he narrows it down. Combine that with dark hair, that leaves us with either Wufei or Heero. The rest are like Zechs and Dorthy, fair haired and skinned. He also said he had batlike wings. Only Wufei and Heero have batwings. Zechs has black feathers edged with silver, making me sure it's not him even if Moochie somehow misjudged the hair. The rest just have dull black or fiery red. So... we go angel hunting."  
  
A expression that could only be termed stunned greeted this calm speech by Trowa. That was more words that Duo had heard his usually silent partner string together at one time. Taking on a dark angel, even with the odds in their favour was incredibly risky. These were creatures from the Heavens for Kami's sake. They had been alive long before any of them and were said to have been furiously bloody opponents. Hopping down, he splashed through a rill of blood running into the stormdrain down the street. Here in UnderCity, it was a common sight, especially when Treize's troops got paid, but it never failed to sicken Duo somewhere deep inside. Deep in a place that he kept hidden from anyone, not wanting to show any sort of weakness around people who killed off what they saw as the weak like a pack of wolves. Humanity wasn't meant to be this way. Even at his young age, Maxwell was sure of it.   
  
The two young males strode down Brand Street. Shops lined both sides of the dirt track street. No car moved down the pathway, nothing approaching an automobile even existing in UnderCity. Even if there had been, gasoline was a vauge memory to even the oldest of the inhabitants. The hulks of what they had been rusted in the darkness, some of the street rats using them as homes. On Brand Street, a person could find nearly anything they wanted. Most of the right side was devoted to drugs, anything from the light to the ones that could fry a person's mind with a single hit. Down beneath the earth, one took their thrills where they could find them.  
  
Storekeepers displayed their goods openly, needles and vials glistening under spotlights, set on turntables as if they were precious gems. Heavily armed guards stood at all the entrances and exits, all too willing to end a junkie's life if they tried to rob the place. Only the foolish robbed any business that bore the 'T' symbol within one of their windows. That meant that they were beneath Treize's and the ruling body's protection. Attempting to break that protection resulted in a very violent execution. The last fool that had tried to rip off one of Treize's whorehouses of a particularly pretty female ended up being shoved naked into a barrel with the nails driven inwards. A horse was tied before it, the rope encompassing the barrel's width and keeping the victim trapped within. After pronouncing sentence, Treize himself had stepped down to apply the whip to the horse's rump to send it into a run, dragging the man with it. Some said there was actually a smile on the ruler of UnderCity's face as he did so. It wasn't a real surprise to those that equated the man to the ancient tales of Satan.  
  
The opposite side of the street was where most of the brothels and saloons stood, sometimes a building being both in one. Within their windows were displayed good as well, most being the mostly or completely bare sort that did what they could to attract customers. As Duo and Trowa walked past one aptly named 'The Climax', a young male with curly black hair winked at Duo, licking the glass and trying to entice him within. Seductive lips coated with a narcotic honey formed a sweetned pout, a flick of his tongue coaxing victims to him. Shaking his head, Duo quickened his steps to Trowa's side, shoving his hands within his own pockets and growling to himself. "I hate this fuckin' place at times, Tro-man."  
  
Trowa nodded shortly, the two of them leaving the business district to move into what was loosely considered the residental. Eyes peered suspiciously out at them, quick fingered children racing by them in packs to try to pickpocket anything that looked as if it might be sold or eaten. Most of the small bodies were bone thin, all of them bearing the corpse pale skin of those that lived in this eternal darkness. It was a heavy sigh that Trowa heaved as Duo stopped, distributing a handful of coins to the youngsters. It was no wonder they never had anything with Duo's constant donations to the poorer people, not to mention his occasional looting of food stores to give away in the dead of night. Most had termed the Shinigami a latter-day Robin Hood. It was also the reason that he was one of the most wanted men by Treize's people in UnderCity. No good deed went unpunished.  
  
As Duo finished, grinning like a fool and waving to the dirtied children, he caught back up to the other boy, offering him a sheepish grin in reply to the frown. "Couldn't help it, Tro-man. Those pennies will buy them bread and rice for a couple of days, maybe keep some from starving. You saw how sickly they were..."  
  
A rolling of emerald eyes answered him as the taller boy stalked on, gathering one of his blades into his hand for throwing. It was a dead man walking that thought he could get past Trowa and his knives. If they somehow managed, Duo always had a silenced gun on him somewhere. Owning such a weapon unless you were lisenced was highly illegal, enough to earn both of them a good long haul in the mines or immediate execution. The law lay in the hands of whoever first discovered a breaker usually.  
  
Moving past the crumbling apartment building, Duo's purple eyes crept over the structures. Most would have been condemned if they had been on the surface, something he didn't know. Neither Duo or Trowa had ever seen the light of the sun. Both had been born in UnderCity and lived their entire lives here, told only the story of a great war that had swept the surface world resulting in everything being scorched, the land turned unforgiving, and the air unbreathable. According to legend, the great Treize had risen up to lead all the survivors down here to safety, establishing a new world for them where the rich didn't rule over them. In Duo's mind, what had happened was that new rich people had come and pushed everyone else back into the gutter. The places where most of the population lived were full of holes and weak structures. Hearing about a fire killing dozens or a roof collapsing and destroying families was a common occurance.   
  
Trowa's outflung arm stopped him and dragged him out of his thoughts, the Latin boy crouching down as he pointed up the hill towards a grouping of mansions. In the castoff light from the streets, the looked like huge masoleums, crypts of bones waiting for a fool to enter them and see the horrors. Shuddering, he drew closer to Trowa, taking some comfort from the other's presence. "Which one?" he asked in a whisper.  
  
A slim finger pointed at one that was near the end, a softly glimmering white and ebony structure. Dragons curled about the massive pillars that supported the roof, their eyes seeming alive as they stared endlessly. Everything about the place spoke of coldness, even the reptilian forms that were carved into the walls. Whoever owned this place was obsessed with dragons. Duo squinted up at the pillars, a symbol on them catching his attention. "What's that mean?"  
  
"Nataku... an ancient goddess of Justice. Popular in China. I've seen it in a book somewhere."  
  
Duo nodded, swallowing thickly against the lump that wanted to cut off his breathing, his heart thudding away in his chest already. "Which one's house is that?"  
  
Trowa's fingers spread beneath his chin, the other hand loosely turning the knife within it. "That one is Wufei's home. The lights are off, the creature probably sleeping. That one over there is Heero's."  
  
The self proclaimed god of Death twisted the end of his braid through his fingers as Trowa did with his knife, gazing to the opposite side at the huge house that was pointed out to him. This one was all sharp angles, lacking the cleaness of Wufei's home. Heero's appeared to be more out of some Gothic horror story with the spiring towers and castlelike exterior. The stone making up this one wasn't white like the others that the angels lived within. This one was a dead black, almost like a void in a space of stars. Lights burned in the upper room, the flickering candlelight creating weird shadows upon the sheer curtians that the two boys on the street could see. A shadow moved across that light, Duo's breath catching in his throat once more. Heero was home. "Which one first?"  
  
Sharp eyes of jade studied first one, then the other. There were no real paths up to where the celestials lived, no road needed for those that could fly. Sharp cliffs rose all about them, almost as if the dark angels themselves had fashioned the very rocky land on which their homes stood to keep intruders out. Nodding toward the white one, Trowa's lips pulled tightly. "Wufei's first. It's dark there. He's either out or asleep. If he's asleep, we jump on him, wound him bad enough to knock the fight out of him, and then find Quatre. Kill him and leave. If he's not home, then we wait and then land on him. If he doesn't have Quatre, then Heero does. We use Wufei as a lever with Heero to get Quatre back, then try to kill them both."  
  
Duo nodded as he followed the other boy, a grappeling hook produced from within the Latino's longcoat. Flicking the spiked ends out on it, they tossed it upwards, catching the railing of Wufei's balcony. The small clatter it made brought a wince to both of them. In silence, they began to climb upwards.  
  
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In a dark upper room of Wufei's mansion, a pair of eyes flicked open. The scents of sandlewood and cherries lingered in the air, sakura blossoms strewn over water with a burner floating in it lending an air of serenity. From beneath ebony lashes, eyes that were complete pools of darkness peered about him. He needed no light to see. If anything, brightness hurt his eyes, the entire surface of them looking as if they were coated with oil. A tendril of black hair slid across his forehead, a contrast to his coppery skin, the same scents of the Orient flavouring his flesh.  
  
Keeping from the windows, he rose in a soundless motion, fluid like a cat. Batlike wings folded at his back, their shade matching his hair in their shadowy colour. Sniffing the air, he was vaugely surprised to discover the scent of humans drifting towards him. Two of them, male if he guessed right. Leaping onto the banister and pulling himself into a shadowed alcove, his eyes roved the gloom of his white marble floored living room. The only furniture was a low table and a futon, perfect for his Spartan needs. Wufei was patient, a cat waiting for the mice to enter.  
  
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TBC... and no, I haven't forgotten about Heero and Quatre *grins*  
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	5. Chapter Five

Title: The Dark Heart of the City  
  
Author: Zoisite NightDragon  
  
Part: 5/who has any idea...  
  
Pairings: 1x4, 2x3x5, there's lots more that escape me right now. Zechs, Treize, and everyone else shows up later.  
  
Status: I'll finish it eventually.  
  
Disclaimer/Warnings/etc: Slap every warning you can think of on this. First off though, UnderCity is owned and copyrighted by me and Stonewall Publications, so please don't take it, okay? Any chars that aren't owned by Mobile Suit Gundam Wing and their respective companies are mine as well, such as the Enforcers and so on. Erm... yarg. I know I'm forgetting some, so I will say this. This piece was originally meant to be the opener of a second never in the Dark Heart series, but it really didn't fit for the chars it was written for, but it worked pretty good for an alternate universe GW story. It does have a good deal of horror, bloodshed, angst, etc.. all the bad stuff. You all will learn that I specialize in that. For background info, the wars never happened. Treize screwed up, and the entire Earth was scorched, cutting them off from everything. None of the GW boys came from colonies or wherever. They were born within UnderCity or came by other means. They were never pilots, the Gundams weren't made in time or at all (that comes up later, so shhhh) Yes, I did intentionally make this long so that if this isn't anyone's cup of tea they don't have to see anything they don't want to.  
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Trowa's steps were slowed as he stepped off of the balcony and began making his way across the white sea that was Wufei's marble floor. Even the spiced scents on the air spoke of a richness that he had never seen. Sharp green eyes flicked back and forth, watching warily for any sign of life. The entire place had an unlived in feel to him, almost as if it were all stage dressing for a play about to begin. The sensation of being watched didn't help any. Touching a fingertip to his lips, he glanced meaningfully to Duo, knowing too well how the other boy liked to start talking at a rapid clip when he was nervous. The violet eyes that met his own showed fear in them, but also bravery that brought a hint of a smile to Trowa's stern features. It was all the comfort he could offer without speaking, and the celestials were known for their sharp hearing.  
  
From the looming shadows above them, Wufei watched the two curiously. What would press two humans to enter his home? Hunger had never been enough before. Dark celestials were known for flinging lesser beings off of their balconies to the sharp cliffs before for amusement occasionally. Drugs? Couldn't be that since neither of them looked stringy enough to be strung out, nor did any angelic creature touch the stuff that humans poisoned themselves with. Weapons perhaps. Wufei's collection of ceremonial and combat worn katanas did grace the walls, but what good would a three-foot long blade do a mortal? It wasn't as if they could walk around with them on the street or sell them. Possession of any such weapon was a death sentence. Creatures as petty and small-minded as humans couldn't be trusted with something they could hurt themselves with, nor would they ever really appreciate the blade's beauty. However, the taller one was twirling a knife of his own in one hand.   
  
The dark angel's stealthy prowl brought him further along the rafter until he was immediately above the two. Wrapping his ankles about the beam, Wufei lowered himself until he could have stretched out his hands and touched their heads. The one with long hair was a curiosity. Usually only females or ones like Millardo grew their hair that long. For now, he hung silently above them, batlike wings folded loosely about his coppery skin to cloak it in ebony.  
  
"I don't like this, Tro-man. Something doesn't feel right," Duo muttered in a whisper, fingers worried working through the edge of his braid. This place made his skin crawl. Too many shadows. The fact that he was standing in a dark angel's home... a bloody dark angel!... made it all the worse. These were Treize's personal guard, things that mothers told their children about to frighten them into being good. The scents of sandalwood and sakura hanging in the air fell just short of cloying. It was better than the blood and ashes scent outside, but damn if it didn't add to the general creepiness.  
  
Trowa only nodded in reply, internally cursing Duo for even speaking. Tapping his fingers to the other boy's shoulder, he started for the stairs. The blade spun between his fingers; moonlight catching off of it like quicksilver. At least it wore away some of his jitters. If it hadn't been for Quatre, he would never be running a suicide mission like this, but he wasn't about to let a friend die or live in the hands of creatures like the dark angels. Mounting the stairs, the boy's jaden eyes swept over the darkness once more.  
  
Wufei hit them like a runaway train. Not once did either of them hear a hint of noise as the angel release his ankles from the beam and start down. The only warning they had was a second before impact when he unfurled his wings, the membranes making a whiplike cracking sound to catch the air and set him into a near hover. Duo's braid was seized and jerked, enough to throw him off balance and crashing into the futon across the room. Trowa's knife was arrested in midswing as Wufei's clawed hand closing about the Latino's wrist. Jerked about, Trowa found himself staring into the creature's face for the first time. Coppery skin shone softly as if coated with oil or lightly bronzed while instead of normal eyes with only the iris containing colour, Wufei's were entirely black, moving constantly as if coated with oil. Tips of needlelike teeth edged out from beneath the angel's lips, each one a pure white compared to the rotting teeth most had in UnderCity. A handful of dark nails that looked sharp enough to cut steel caressed Trowa's cheek, those malevolent eyes reflecting back only Trowa's own frightened visage like a pair of black mirrors. Even the creature's breath bore taints of sakura blossoms to it, another lying beneath that was scented of flyblown meat. "And who might you be?" he asked, head tilting in an almost birdlike manner towards Trowa's face.  
  
Whatever words had been in the Latino's throat dried up as he gazed into those eyes. They were voids of nothingness, swallowing everything, even the light within their ovals. Struggling with his captured hand to drive the blade back towards Wufei, Trowa's knee smashed upwards, trying for the angel's pelvis. Shattering laughter rained down on his ears as a muscular thigh reflected the strike, the wrist of his hand holding the knife was smashed into the marble banister. It was hard enough for him to feel the bones crack on impact. Hissing in hurt, Trowa felt himself and Wufei begin to fall backwards, down the path of stone stairs that were too willing to break more of his bones.  
  
Rising to his hands and knees in the wreck of what had been the futon, the violet eyed male shook his head, trying to clear away some of the dizziness from being thrown headlong into an impact hard enough to shatter the furniture's sturdy wooden frame into matchsticks. Praising his own hard skull, he rubbed his eyes and blinked at the fight on the stairs. Seeing Wufei's jaws yawning open with those daggerish teeth bared was enough to spurn him into action. Racing onto the balcony, Duo gathered up the rope and grappling hook. If his aim was good, this might just work. Flinging the hook towards the frilly bars of the stair's rails, luck was with him in snaring one. Jerking the rope tight, it snapped against he back of Trowa's leg, all the warning he could give him.  
  
Green eyes snapped down at something striking his leg, releasing his free hand's hold on Wufei to grasp the strand. Launching off the stairs with a shove, he rolled back with the rope, landing just a step below in a crouch. Wufei wasn't so lucky. Pulled with Trowa's initial push, he free fell into the trap, tumbling down the stairs with it tangling about him. Realizing what he'd caught, Duo let go in a hurry. The dark angel flailed in the loops he had inadvertently tangled himself in, shrieking loudly in a voice that sounded like a falcon spotting prey. Black wings tried to unfold and free themselves only to be caught as well. The screaming of the creature grew louder at that. Of all their vulnerable points, their wings were the worst. Shouting above the noise, Trowa seized one of the loops and began to pull. "Duo! Tie it off!"  
  
Steeling himself, Duo grasped one as well, trying to keep back as far as he could. The gnashing teeth of the dark angel was frightening, not to mention those soulless eyes. Could he even see through that? The creature's black hair had pulled free of its ponytail, riotous strands of onyx swirled about his face. The beauty of that tanned skin and black locks was almost as scary as Wufei himself. Tying his end off around one of the posts on the balcony, Duo kept back, surprising himself at feeling almost sorry for the angel as its thrashing in the rope died off. When given the choice of injuring his wings or escaping, his kind evidentially took the latter.  
  
Trowa stalked back to the angel after securing his own to one of the room's massive pillars. His wrist throbbed sickly, broken bones grinding against each other. Spinning the knife in his good hand, he crouched before Wufei, having that same moment of pity. This wasn't a thing meant to be captured and nearly broken. It was like seeing a proud tiger in a too small cage. Shaking it off, Trowa lifted the knife to before the creature's eyes. "I know you can understand me. I've seen you all follow Treize too many times to think you can't. You or one of your flying freak pals took a friend of mine. Small, blonde, pretty. I want him back."  
  
Stoic silence met his demand, those coal black eyes fastened on his own without emotion, regal face without expression.  
  
Trowa scowled and began edging the point of his blade closer and closer to the angel's copper kissed skin. "I don't want to hurt you. All I want is my friend back. It was either you or Heero that took him."  
  
Wufei murmured something too low to hear, his black crowned head bowing as if ashamed. Trowa frowned, leaning closer to hear as the knife lowered a fraction of an inch. Crouched low still, Duo's sharp eyes caught the flexing of the dark angel's hand in now cut ropes too late. Those damned long sharp nails the creature possessed had been forgotten by both.  
  
And then everything went to Hell.  
  
Before Duo could even start to tell Trowa to move back, Wufei's hand shot out, grasping to the front of the male's shirt and jerking him close. With a snakelike quickness, the angel's lips sealed over Trowa's own, the tip of his tongue pressing past the unwilling male's lips and forcing them to part to a deep kiss. Emerald eyes went wide with surprise and began to slowly cloud over, fluttering to near closed as he gave into the kiss, returning it with the same passion that wanton given his cool manner moments before. Wufei's own eyes moved onto Duo, a dark, secret smile greeting the other boy as he released the now limp Latino to fall to the floor. A slash of Wufei's nails severed the rest of the ropes from his body, gingerly freeing his delicate batwings as his gaze stayed locked on Duo's own. Instead of opening his mouth to speak, the angel's voice whispered in the American's own mind, malicious and tempting at that same time. //Foolish mortals... come here, little one. Come kiss me...//  
  
The breath racing in and out of Duo's mouth felt heated suddenly, sultry in what had been near coldness before. Gazing into those dark eyes, he could see himself spread out beneath Wufei, legs wrapped around the creature's waist as he rode his thrusts. His own voice echoed in his ears, begging for more, harder, faster. Duo's own hands were buried in those freed black locks of hair while his own fanned out beneath the two of them. He could even feel the searing kisses from Wufei and the more tender ones of Trowa sprinkled over his lips and chest. Dropping to his knees on the floor, he stared blankly still as Wufei rose to his feet with a rustle of his wings, the membranes wrapping about the Chinese angel as if they were a cloak, tips brushing the floor. With each step the creature took closer to him, another thrust was given in his mind's eyes, soft whimpers of need falling from Duo's lips. It was all too clear until those razored nails of Wufei's touched his cheek. With a shriek of his own, the boy skittered backwards, gaining his feet somehow and running blindly for the balcony. Behind him, he heard the low menacing growl and then the rapid pounding for feet as well as the whip crack sound of wings opening once more. Without even thinking, he reached the rail and jumped.  
  
Wufei scowled darkly as he landed on the rail, balancing himself in a crouch and glaring over it. Nothing moved below in the heaps of garbage and brush that lay along and at the bottom of the sheer cliffs. The little fool had killed himself. Pity really. Those wide purple eyes and chestnut hair had more than fired his own imagination. Good things that these humans hadn't suspected that unlike Heero, most of his kind were more than capable of psychic manipulation. Tapping a fingertip to his lips, he still watched below for any sign of the other surviving even as his mind wandered. So Heero had finally gotten himself a new pet. Wufei had to wonder if this one would actually survive the night. The other was infamous for killing those that didn't meet his high standards... mostly that a pet didn't lose its mind at the sight of him. Harder trick than it sounded with their appearances. At times he cursed the ones who had let them fall from the heavens, to become these twisted creatures that they now were. Glancing at his leathery wings, he could remember when they had been covered with downy feathers that glittered in the light instead of bare and ugly... when the sun itself had shone brighter when he laughed or smiled instead of bringing such fear. Things that couldn't be changed were only to be accepted though. This is the way it was, and as it would stay until he had one his penance.  
  
Meiran... had she been worth the fall from above? Wufei still thought yes, now centuries... or was it millennia... after her death. Time grew fluid when one reached the age he had. To love a mortal woman had been forbidden. Heero's crime had been worse than his own, perhaps why the other angel had become twisted as mentally as he was physically. One did not simply fall in love with another angel and abandon their post of Death Angel because they felt like it. Heero's love had seen him kill; destroy an entire generation of children. He had been an angel of love... death playing no part in his fragile existence of joy. To kill the innocent had been unacceptable. So Heero had thrown his sword down, refusing to pick it up ever again and raging against being forced to.   
  
So in the end, they both fell for love.  
  
Stalking back towards Trowa, Wufei's gaze studied over his new captive. The question was, what to do with him? The kiss was the big problem. It more or less bound this one to him. Crouching over the still stupored male, he brushed away some of the fallen brown hair over the pale face. Pretty. Very pretty with those jewel-like eyes. Perhaps he'd make a good servant or something after he had some meat on his bones. Much too thin. The words that he had spoken before flitted across Wufei's mind once more. Blonde... Heero still couldn't be obsessing over that after this long. With a frown on his lips, one angel's mind reached for the other's. //Heero... are you all right?//  
  
The reply was breathless, a near visual accompanying it of Heero atop someone, lips feasting on the other's. The taste of strawberry registered for some reason. //I am busy. What do you want?//  
  
Wufei's eyes rolled as he sighed. That was Heero for you. All business, and still unable to make his powers work. The knowledge that Heero was getting laid was not something he wanted to see or experience through their telepathic connection right now. //I had visitors tonight. Two searching for a delicate blonde. Haven't seen any, have you?//  
  
Anger and a possessive jealousy that nearly burnt flooded across their line to each other, hard and vicious enough to almost make Wufei lose their connection. When Heero spoke up, his mental voice was taut and barely controlled. //I won't give him up. Kill them for me.//  
  
Wufei shook his head and sighed again. Sweeping Trowa's hair from his face, he thought over his reply carefully. Really, what did it hurt if Heero had himself a new pet for awhile? The blonde was safer than any creature in UnderCity if Heero honestly was this way about him so early. Had Trowa and ... what the other's name... oh yes, Duo. The name had been plucked from Trowa's mind like a ripe fruit when he'd kissed him. Had Trowa and Duo charged Heero first, they would be ribbons of bloody flesh on the floor. Wufei's voice in reply was soothing and supportive; the friend had been since they had found themselves here on Earth. //Worry not, Heero. They're taken care of. No one will be taking him from you. Perhaps I can meet him tomorrow? I've acquired a new one myself. They could be friends, keep each other company when we're out on patrol.//  
  
Heero's voice softened some in reply, the anger and hate releasing some as he calmed. //Hai... I would like that. Until then...//  
  
Sliding his arms beneath Trowa and lifting him carefully to cradle against his chest, Wufei began the climb to his room. It was going to be a long night.  
  
---------------------------  
  
Duo groaned as he saw the shadowy gargoyle like form high up on the balcony go back into the house. It had been fate's own luck that he'd landed on a good-sized pile of garbage atop an old mattress. He couldn't do this alone, not against all of them. If he'd had any brains, he would have insisted that he and Trowa had brought the others with them this time. Then ... none of this would have happened. Shaking fruit peels and other slimy things he'd rather not identify off of him, Duo got wearily to his feet, his mind still confused and slow from whatever the creature had done to him. Only two things made sense right now: Getting Hilde and the rest, and rescuing Trowa with Quatre. Staggering every few steps, he headed for Hilde's club, Slick Spots. 


	6. Chapter Six

Title: The Dark Heart of the City  
  
Author: Zoisite NightDragon  
  
Part: 6/who has any idea...  
  
Pairings: 1x4, 2x3x5, there's lots more that escape me right now. Zechs, Treize, and everyone else shows up later.  
  
Status: I'll finish it eventually.  
  
Disclaimer/Warnings/etc: Slap every warning you can think of on this. First off though, UnderCity is owned and copyrighted by me and Stonewall Publications, so please don't take it, okay? Any chars that aren't owned by Mobile Suit Gundam Wing and their respective companies are mine as well, such as the Enforcers and so on. Erm... yarg. I know I'm forgetting some, so I will say this. This piece was originally meant to be the opener of a second never in the Dark Heart series, but it really didn't fit for the chars it was written for, but it worked pretty good for an alternate universe GW story. It does have a good deal of horror, bloodshed, angst, etc... all the bad stuff. You all will learn that I specialize in that. For background info, the wars never happened. Treize screwed up, and the entire Earth was scorched, cutting them off from everything. None of the GW boys came from colonies or wherever. They were born within UnderCity or came by other means. They were never pilots, the Gundams weren't made in time or at all (that comes up later, so shhhh) Yes, I did intentionally make this long so that if this isn't anyone's cup of tea they don't have to see anything they don't want to. (Anyone else tired of reading this long warning by now?)  
  
Archives: Fanfiction.net and Heero and Quatre in Love. Blue Roses has my 13x4 stuff. Anyone else, please ask, ne?  
  
One last note for the fanfiction archive. I fixed the errors that had popped up with transferring over files with the telepathy. Instead of being in ~~, it's now in //…//  
  
----  
  
Heero ignored the angry buzzing in his skull. Wufei's words sent the dull sparks of rage that always lingered within him into a full-blown wildfire. Gazing back down to Quatre's flushed face, he let that rage subside. It served nothing for the moment, and there were much more interesting pursuits to lose himself within.  
  
He had kept his word on that there would be no rushing of him by Quatre in his seductive conquest, nor would he be hurried along and accidentally cause damage to his new pet. After Quatre's first climax within his lips, Heero had begun his tongue bathing anew until the blonde had been teased into a near painful state again. Even finally sliding within his pet had been exquisite torture to Heero. For one dim second, he had almost begun thrusting wildly within that too snug passage that his fingers had slowly widened. Restraint that only a celestial could have possessed kept him from it. It had taken a good part of half an hour for him to fully bury himself within the blonde much to the other's dismay. Small rises of Quatre's hips had kept trying to make him move faster, something he had finally stilled by laying his weight more on his captive. For now, he was amusing himself by rolling his hips in slow circles while licking the remains of a strawberry from Quatre's lips.  
  
"What is this?"  
  
Heero let loose a soft rill of his jagged laughter at the innocent question. Nipping the rounded end off another of the berries, he began spreading the fruit's soft pulp against Quatre's lips and tongue once more. "They are called strawberries, Koneko. A long time ago, they were quite plentiful. There were fields and fields of them that you could walk through and gather them by the basketful. Now, I think only Treize and Zechs have them in their greenhouses. Relena might have some as well. I'm not sure. I avoid her when possible."  
Quatre's back arched as Heero brushed that spot within him again, fighting to keep himself still beneath the dark angel and his lips parted. A soft whine broke from his throat as he felt a morsel of the berry laid on the tip of his tongue. Heero had warned him that he had to stay completely still and now it would seem silent as well. If he moved, then they would begin all over again. After two false starts, Quatre was becoming sure that he'd go insane from pleasure if forced to begin once more. Soft swipes of Heero's tongue washing his lips elicited more trembling from his already strained body. The bit of strawberry left on his tongue was taken away as his lover's own lips closed over the uplifted tip, suckling softly before releasing. All he could do was plead with his eyes, the aquamarine gems staying fixed on the angel's own face with that silent question dwelling within them.  
  
They were two pools of blue that Heero was sure he could drown in, forcing his own gaze to turn away before he gave into temptation. Wufei's words still gnawed at his mind. So someone, or rather a pair of some ones, were searching for Quatre. They'd have to meet messy deaths shortly. Picking them out of the crowds would be easy enough while he and Wufei were on patrol tomorrow night. Humans tended to smell bad on the average since few of them considered bathing unless they were whores, and then they smelled of the narcotic honey that the madams used on them to keep both the hooker and client addicted to each other. Rather ingenious plan for a bunch of mortals. If any had been in Wufei's home, they would still bear the scents of that place.   
  
With that lingering in his mind, Heero took in the picture of Quatre. Beautiful. The blonde's entire body was still strained with need right down to the hands that lay curled into small fists at his sides. The intelligence he had been so worried about was more than present in his new pet. Curiosity alone showed that as well as his adaptability to circumstance. This game had been designed to test his restraint, see if he was capable of obeying orders even when they went against what he desperately wanted. So far, he was a stunning success. There had been two failures, but that was to be expected. To err was human as it was said. For one untrained, he was surpassing Heero's wants.  
  
Finishing off the last berry in the bowl, Heero's lips descended for a real kiss. Passion and lust bled through in his touch, his hand running along Quatre's outer thighs. Encouraging the Arabian to wrap his legs around him, the time for teasing and testing was past. There were too many demands within him that he'd kept restrained for too long to deny now.  
  
Wings spread out behind him, Heero made the perfect scene of evil threatening an innocent. Drawing the slender blonde up into his lap, the illusion was broken by Quatre's lips willingly pressing to his throat, touching insistent kisses there while squirming against him for deeper penetration. Drawing a deep breath to calm his libido, Heero lifted the boy in his arms, lowering him with that same fluid motion. The other quickly picked up the motion, the Arab drawing his legs down to rest on his knees and taking over the work. Rising up to the blonde's downward, Heero's gaze was drawn back up to those pale blue eyes, wanting to see the emotion there. Flaring heat meet his own as he began to lose himself. Hands lowered to rest of Quatre's waist, driving himself to meet him. A hungered tiger's growl began in Heero's chest as it began to overwhelm him, Pushing Quatre onto his back; he thrust into the blonde with one hard stroke. Beneath him, Quatre writhed in pleasure, nails raking down across Heero's back. Shrieking in the combination of sensations lashing through him, the dark angel's lips descended to fasten on the boy's shoulder. Nipping the tender skin there until it left a reddish mark, he wanted to do anything to release some of the rising pressure in him before his heart burst. Stroke after stroke he heard his own name whispered pleadingly into his ear, cajoling him on to completion. The legs wrapped about his waist once more strained with each rocking of their sweat-streaked bodies. Sheets twisted about them, grasped in Quatre's fingers after he forced his hands down from Heero's backside, leaving shallow red furrows in their wake. A scream was cut loose from beneath him as the narrow channel cradling Heero's erection tightened beyond what he would have thought possible. A cry of his own that set glass trembling followed in the other's wake, the dark angel spilling his heated seed within Quatre.   
  
For the first time since he had fallen, Heero knew true pleasure. Every nerve in his body seemed to burn and be caressed all at the same time. His heart stuttered in his chest, nearly stopping in its beating at the force slamming through him as he emptied himself. Resting on his hands and knees over his new pet, the dark angel panted harshly for breath. Never had it been like this before with the others. Then again, they had usually been kicking, screaming, or weeping the entire time. Gathering Quatre into his arms, he gathered up the perspiration-dampened hair from the boy's face, sniffing worried at his pet's throat. The boy's eyes were closed and his body limp, seeming dead to Heero. His scent reassured the dark angel, telling him that he had merely passed out, not died on him. Gathering the thick blankets over the two of them, he curled his body around that of his pet, nuzzling into the soft locks of hair and falling into sleep's arms.  
  
There were no nightmares for him in that darkness… another first.  
  
No sun rose in UnderCity to mark the dawn's coming. Beneath the Earth's crust, there was only eternal darkness. Vague shapes stirred in the shadows, most of them children that were up early and quick to scavenge any food or other usable items thrown out of the whorehouses, drug warehouses, or other businesses of UnderCity. Quick feet carried children who would have been in kindergarten in the normal world through trash heaps were they pulled aside dead bodies or parts of them to grab for a head of rotten lettuce. Leaves of it were thrust greedily into starving mouths along with anything else they could find. What extra they could carry was taken back to families or squirreled away for later. The weak didn't survive here, only the quick and strong did.  
  
Quatre awoke swiftly, dead asleep one moment and fully awake the next. Aware of the weight still curled to his back, the Arabian lifted his head slowly, memory rushing back of where he was and what had happened. Dried scales of semen and slick spots of oil still flecked his thighs and bottom. Shifting his body to glance at Heero, he watched the sleeping creature's face for a time. There was a serenity there in the unconscious visage of Heero. Leathery wings laid about him like another blanket, his legs curled slightly towards his stomache. One arm still laid out where it had been looped about Quatre's waist while the other was held against his chest, the hand curled into a fist that rested below the shelf of his chin. Dark brown eyelashes kissed against his pale cheeks, and the angelic creature's rose lips were parted slightly with his respiration. Only the tips of his savage teeth breaking the softness of his mouth and his daggerish nails gave away his dark nature.   
  
Studying this face, Quatre realized for the first time that he could chance an escape again. Heero hadn't awoken yet, and he could get out! He could find the way out of this house and be gone before the other woke up. Or… he could smash something across him and then get away… That thought hurt. Something in Quatre refused to do damage to a thing of darkness that he should have run screaming from. Sighing softly, Quatre wormed his way out of the bed, drawing Heero's discarded robe from last night onto his body for warmth. Drawing the folds of material up around him, he caught that scent of gunpowder and blood that was pure Heero. What was there really for him out on the streets? Death? Pain? Getting used night after night roughly for some john's money? There was Trowa and Duo, of course, but they would be better off without him. Then they could run around as they had before without having to worry about keeping what they termed 'scum' away from him. Pulling the thick blanket up about Heero's shoulders, he took care of the delicate wings, barely laying it across the membranes. A fingertip traced the ridge of one gently, urging it down beneath the warm interior of the blanket without force. A shudder coursed through the angel's body, a moan breaking past him lips that bore the unmistakable hints of pleasure. Clapping a hand to his mouth to keep from giggling at the thought of those being erogenous zones, Quatre crept into the massive bathroom to clean himself up. If he could get Heero to let Trowa and Duo know that he was all right, he would be staying.   
  
As the sound of running water from behind the closed washroom door reached his ears, Heero's eyes opened. As Trowa had known, celestials had incredibly sharp hearing, capable of picking up a whisper. The change in Quatre's breathing from asleep to waking had been enough to stir him, not to mention the boy's change in scent. The hand that had been curled beneath his chin opened slowly as he stretched out, the sharpened nails already tensed. Worry had touched him for a time as Quatre's scent had shifted with his thoughts. The smell of danger had been there, the want to do harm to another. It didn't take a genius to realize that it had been him. That had passed quickly at least. The other had been that of fear, a want to flee. Normal, Heero judged. Any creature that was wild and suddenly held captive would have a desire to return to their habitat. The last tendrils of scent that had drifted from Quatre as he headed for the bath had been the sweetest. He had reached the interior decision to stay. What he wasn't aware of was that Heero wouldn't have let him leave even if he had tried to run away. Worse to worst, he would have dragged the boy to Wufei or Zechs and asked them to make him believe he loved him. Either way, things had turned out better than he hoped.  
  
Stretching out, he peeled the blanket back from his wings. Something he'd have to teach the boy was that angels disliked having their wings covered. They heated up and became uncomfortable quickly, not to mention that material would snag and pull at them. It was best to just leave them uncovered, but his heart had been in the right place. Rising from the bed, Heero strolled in the washroom and through the drifting steam towards where his new treasure laid. It was time to say good morning in his own way.  
  
------  
  
Wufei was in the same position for the most part. He yawned and stretched as he leaned against the side of the tub. Behind him, Trowa was sponging his back gently, washing carefully around where his wings joined with his back. Resting his head on his folded arms on the garden bathtub's lip, Wufei was a content angel. After making sure that Duo was either dead or not returning, he had led his new toy upstairs and examined him. He was lanky and thin from street living, but surprisingly strong and wiry. Tired then, he had led the other to bed, the two snuggling together much like Quatre and Heero had. The sound of another's heartbeat in the silence had been lulling to the Chinese dark angel.  
  
Now, as the pair of them were nude in the sandalwood scented waters, he was pleased that he hadn't thrown the emerald-eyed boy over the balcony to his death. After being alone for so long, Wufei had forgotten how pleasant it was to have another around. Relaxed, his wings stirred softly in the warm waters, draped along his sides to give the other male more access for his cleanings.  
  
Trowa worked silently, his concentration seeming locked on the skin before him as he watched the paths of water trace strange lines over the copper flesh. Part of him raged against this, wanting him to wake up. The other half was content like this, happy. There was no more war to fight, people to free, or things to accomplish. Everything was right here before him. It was the latter that won out for now as his head dipped, licking away a thread of water from Wufei's spine. A soft noise of enjoyment came from his Master, prompting him to repeat it. More touches of his tongue began to clean the rest of the beads of liquid from the angel's back, hands releasing the sponge into the bath as the descended lower on the Wufei's thighs. Dark hair tickled at Trowa's cheeks as he laid his head against the bronzed shoulder, molding his body against the other's.   
  
Hazy shock descended over Wufei's stoic features. Him being seme was the general way he did things when he had the urge to mate. Being beneath another was not. A protest began until a hand strong from manipulating knives closed gently about his phallus. Any words he might have spoken against this were forgotten, his body taken over to thrust into the curling fingers beneath the water. Wings fluttered before falling still, a faint trembling passing through their thin expanses. A soft hiss was heard as Wufei's nails bit into the side of the tub, eyes slitting closed as he rolled his hips back against Trowa's own. The Latino's hardened length slid along his cleft, hotter than even the water that lapped at the pair.  
  
For an instant, an image of Quatre flickered in Trowa's mind, bringing him to a pause. Some part of him that had been shoved aside insisted it should have been the small blonde he was doing this to instead of the dark angel, but like the rebellious thoughts of earlier, it was easily shoved aside and forgotten. Rocking himself against Wufei, his hand picked back up its slow exploration of his Master's length, going by feel as he slowly stroked it. His other hand descended to begin stretching him. Wufei gasped softly as the water they laid in followed the path of Trowa's fingers, trickling inside of him as well. There was pain, but it was remote and somewhat welcome. How long had it been since something had actually hurt him? Any sensation was a good one in a barren place like his emotions. The fingertips were shortly withdrawn as something larger pressed against that narrow ring. A cry of mingled pain and pleasure split the air, the shrill birdlike tones much like those of the night before when Wufei had been captured between the two mortals. Speared on Trowa's hardness, the hurt eroded away with the soft bites of his pet's that were laid across his shoulders. The hand stroking him began to speed up, matched by the roll of the Latino's hips. Colours whirled and swarmed behind Wufei's closed eyelids, his hands tightening on the tub's lips as his nails pierced deeper within it. Control had been lost to a pet… a slave… a mortal of all things. All thoughts were whited out as Trowa struck that spot within him, leaving him twisting in the other's grasp, caught between thrusting into that slick grip and pushing back against the length buried within him. The hand holding him captive tightened as the body pressed against his own shuddered, bringing his orgasm about. Jets of semen joined the roiling waters about the two of them.  
  
Wufei nearly collapsed, energy gone in a fog of pleasure. He distantly felt himself held and drawn back into Trowa's arms as the human cradled him. Soft murmurs of nonsense words washed over his drifting senses while he was washed once more. A warm towel gazed over his skin as he allowed himself to be dried and his hair combed out. As he came back to himself, a pair of emerald eyes met his own. Nuzzling against Trowa, he wrapped his arms around the Latino's neck even as his mind invaded. Any thoughts Trowa had of leaving or escaping were weeded out, ripped away and left with only ones of wanting to stay and be happy by pleasing Wufei. If Heero was entitled to a bit of greediness, why wasn't he?  
  
Drawing his head back, he watched the green-eyed boy's face for any signs of rebellion even as he lingered in the other's psyche. Pleased with himself, Wufei nodded slowly and threaded his fingers through Trowa's, "We have to go see a friend of mine now. He has a new pet that I think you'll like."  
  
Dressing Trowa in some of his own old clothing, he made a mental note to ask Heero later to go shopping with him. It would appear that the both of them had new pets to outfit.  
  
----------  
  
Treize Khushrenada glanced over the piles of reports that littered his desk. A black feather lined with silver drifted down to rest atop the ones from last night's patrols, a dusting of the ethereal glitter spattering along the printed words. Picking it up carefully, the ruler of UnderCity glanced behind him. The sight of Zechs Marquise never failed to take his breath away. Clad in white from head to toe, it offset more his tanned skin and platinum eyes that bore hints of blue within them. It was an icy shade, well reflecting the angel himself. Black feathered wings lay along his back, silver running along their edges with the same metallic glitter occasionally drifting down from them. Beautiful to look at, deadly to touch. The last person who had dared try to pluck one of those feathers had ended up staring at his own still beating heart a second later.  
  
Lost in staring at the perfection before him, Treize lifted the feather to his lips without thinking, letting the edges drift along his skin. Catching the exasperated look from the angel, he smirked and laid it within one of the drawers, locking it securely as he finished. Gifts from Zechs were far and few, not to be wasted or left where one could steal them. "Ano?"  
  
"It's time for your tour of UnderCity that you've been promising. People are already starting to fill the streets. I'm going to calling Heero and Wufei for further protection. Dorothy, Relena, Une, and Noin are already standing by," Zechs replied, his voice a soft bass that fell pleasantly on the ears.  
  
"And here I had hoped you'd forgotten," Treize murmured as he rose from his comfortable seat. A war to end all wars. It was exactly what he'd done. Unfortunately, the Earth itself had been scorched, and the sky shattered. Darkness had filled the skies above, leaving the world a frozen wasteland. Only here within the planet could anything live. But he'd won? Hadn't he?  
  
Zechs at his side was ignored now that they were in a business mode. He would have rather spent his day listening to an orchestra, an opera, or even tending to his plants than this. The city itself depressed him with its bland colours and people. This hadn't been what he'd seen in his vision of the future, but it was what he'd been given. One could only make the best of it now. "Let's get this over with. Downtown area first." 


End file.
